Soldier of Fortune Chapter Seven: A Whimper of Warning
by Johnmightyarmadillo
Summary: Training for Baker Team continues, the survival test looming sooner and sooner as classes intensify. And the black night of Hue is pierced by fire and shells as the torn and tattered members of the platoon desperately try to stave off a tank, in hopes that rescue might arrive soon.


Chapter Seven

1968. Mighty led the ragged group of soldiers through the ruins of Hue, Cody being supported by Espio and the medic, Ray walking beside Mighty. A few other soldiers had sustained minor cuts and injuries, one of them using his rifle as a church, having been shot in the leg. Mighty had lit another cigarette, smoking quietly as they walked past the ruins of what had once been a school, stepping on the bones of the children that had been killed in the initial attack. Mighty suddenly stopped the squad, spotting a group of enemy soldiers.

"Quick, into the building!" He ran into a former skyscraper, leading the men up a few floors, so they had a perfect vantage point of the approaching platoon. Mighty put out his cigarette, not wanting to draw attention. He held the grenade Erikson had given him, ordering the men to get into position to pick off the remaining ones. Espio and the medic helped Cody sit, checking his bandages, as they were seeping with blood slowly. Cody cursed quietly, his voice weak from fatigue and blood loss. His already white fur seemed paler, as he was having trouble keeping his eyes open. Mighty handed the grenade to Ray.

"Pull the pin and hurl it at the center of the group. I'm… I've got something to do." Mighty walked over to Cody, Ray nervously eyeing the grenade. Getting into position, he waited for the right moment. Mighty kneeled next to Cody, smiling sadly.

"Come on buddy, look at me. Look at me, Cody." Cody pulled his head up weakly, his pale face staring back at Mighty. Mighty put his hand on Cody's shoulder, shaking him slightly.

"Listen to me! I'm getting you out of here, you're gonna make it, ok?" Cody nodded weakly, struggling to keep his eyes open.

"Come on, stay with me! Once Ray and the others take out those gooks, we're gonna get out of here and head back to base, you understand me? Cody! Talk to me, keep talking!" Mighty kept a tight grip on his solders, skiing him lightly, not wanting to disturb his bandages. As Cody pulled his head up to face him weakly, Mighty heard the sound of the grenade as he blocked it out, as well as the sounds of battle that erupted after the explosion.

"Mighty… Jesus, man I- Don't let them get me, don't let those gook bastards do me in…" Cody groaned, listening to the sounds of gunfire erupting closely, the platoon fighting off the surviving soldiers.

"Keep talking. Tell me about yourself, come on, any family? Friends, things you did back home? Come on, talk to me!" Mighty shook him again, the medic standing up and rushing over to check Cody's bandages. Mighty stepped back, allowing him to apply fresh ones.

"Cody, talk to me. Your family, what about them? Tell me about yourself, talk to me. Talk to me!" Mighty sat back, as the medic laid Cody down and opened up his old bandages. Wincing in pain, Cody looked at Mighty.

"I… I've got a brother… Parents… I… I get letters from him, now and then… He's only eleven, thinks I-I… Thinks I'm a hero, serving my country. Says he's going to… T-to enlist himself when he's old enough… Oh god, I've got to warn him!" He attempted to get up, a panicked look in his eyes, suddenly wide open, causing Mighty to step back slightly, ducking down as an errant burst flew over his head. He grabbed Cody by the jacket, forcing him to look him in the eyes.

"Cody, calm down. You can warn your brother later, right now just tell me more about him. Think about him, think about how you can warn him yourself once we're out of here." Mighty glanced over his shoulder, the platoon still engaged in fighting off the soldiers, whose numbers had grown since the initial grenade attack.

"He's… He's a good kid, you know? Looks like me… He… He can be annoying every now and then… But god, he's always so happy to see me when I come home on f-furlough… Tells me about h-his grades and… Asks me what its like here…"Mighty nodded, looking over at Ray, who was trying to ready another grenade. The medic finished applying fresh bandages, and Espio put his hand on Mighty's shoulder.

"We'll take it from here, John. You've got to lead the platoon out of this. Don't worry about Cody, just focus on getting us out of here." Mighty looked up and nodded, standing. He took one last look at Cody, before picking up his gun and making his way to the rest of the platoon, sighing heavily. He lit a cigarette to calm his nerves, and inhaled deeply. After he blew out a breath of smoke, he spoke up.

"Alright, how many of them?" He looked over to Ray.

"We've got at least fifteen men, including some of the survivors from our first attack. Most of them have hidden behind cover, and with all of them firing, we haven't been able to get a clear fix on any of them. We've thrown a few more grenades, but none of them seem to be getting them." Mighty nodded, signaling them to slowly cease firing, and be quiet. As they settled, the gunfire from outside stopped as well. Motioning the men to keep low, he pressed his ear against the wall, listening. He heard voices, talking quietly.

"Nghĩ rằng chúng tôi có tất cả? "

"Không thể quá chắc chắn. Tốt hơn đi xem. Giữ vũ khí của bạn đã sẵn sàng." He heard their footsteps coming towards the building, entering the first floor. Signaling for grenades, Mighty pointed towards the staircase, waiting for the right moment to signal them to throw. Cody groaned loudly, at which the footsteps stopped, the voices whispering to each other. Mighty signaled Espio to keep Cody quiet. Espio nodded, putting his hand over Cody's mouth.

"Cái gì thế? "

"Một trong số họ vẫn có thể sống sót. Hãy chuẩn bị cho bất cứ điều gì." The footsteps resumed, slower this time. Mighty waited silently, preparing to signal the platoon to attack. As the footsteps came closer to the stairs, Mighty threw the signal, and a handful of grenades flew at the stairs, rolling down. A brief cry of surprise was drowned out by the explosions as they rang out. At a signal from Mighty, two soldiers ran down after the explosions subsided, jumping down the gap where the stairs had been. They opened fire briefly, before calling up to the rest. Mighty nodded and helped Espio and the medic move Cody, as the platoon made their way out of the ruined building, stepping over the corpses and pieces of the soldiers. Mighty inhaled on his cigarette again, examining the rubble ahead of saw what looked like a friendly tank off in the distance. Motioning the battered team to follow, he led the way through the former city. Cars and broken cement littered the way, broken glass and pavement providing testament to the bombardment. As they approached, Mighty saw that the tank bore Dragon Kingdom markings. The tank had noticed them, and Mighty cried out,

"GET DOWN!" Espio and the medic rushed Cody off to the side, into an alleyway, while Mighty and Ray dove down with the rest of the platoon as the tank fired, the wheel bursting against a building to the north. Once hit, it crumbled to the ground, blocking off their exit from that direction. The shell had set fire to several other buildings as well, and it spread fast, the entire block now ablaze. Mighty ordered half the platoon to run and try and find a way out, while he and the rest would stay behind and fight off the tank.

"Ray, go over and tell Espio you're to switch places with him. Take care of Cody and try and get the radio working. Tell Espio to join me so we can take down this tank and buy the rest of you some time." Ray nodded slowly, running off to grab Espio. A minute later, Espio ran over, ducking down as another blast from the tank ripped through the air. Espio crawled to join Mighty and two other soldiers who had stayed behind. Mighty checked himself, having only two grenades left. Espio had one, and the others only smoke grenades. They couldn't stay put for long, so Mighty grabbed a smoke grenade and hurled it at the tank. As it released its blinding payload, Mighty signaled them to run, tossing a grenade at a random building to the south, hoping to distract the tank driver. They rushed towards the alleyway the platoon had fled through, only to find it blocked by the fire. Espio cursed, before running off. Mighty tried to call after him, but stopped himself, so as not to give away their position. Espio returned a minute later, carrying a fire extinguisher.

"Found it in the rubble. Stand back." As the group stood back, Espio used the extinguisher to cut a path through the blaze. Motioning them to hurry, they rushed through quickly, as the fire erupted again once they were through. Mighty scanned for the rest of the platoon, spotting them off in the distance. As he and the others ran towards them, another explosion rang out, as part of the inferno blew open, revealing the tank. Panicking, Mighty grabbed Espio and ran, calling out to Ray and the others to run. Ray nodded, helping Cody to keep up with the group as they fled. Another blast tore apart more of the ruins, the blackness of the night interrupted by the illumination of the fires as the black smoke mixed in with the night sky, rendering it almost invisible. The remains of the platoon kept running, Mighty and Espio catching up, as the two soldiers with them were caught in another blast from the tank. Mighty ran over to Ray, clutching at his helmet as the fires kept spreading.

"Ray, you better tell me that you got that fucking radio working or else we're all dead!" Ray was panicked as well, his uniform singed from one of the blasts.

"I'm trying, but its not working! I don't know what to do with it, Johnny, I don't know a damn thing about radios!"

"Well find someone that does! If that radio doesn't start working, that tank is going to kill every last one of us here!" Mighty lit another cigarette, his hands trembling. He looked behind to see several members of the platoon attacking the tank, using rifles and pistols. He knew it wouldn't do enough damage. They were out of grenades, and Cody had dropped his rocket launcher when he was wounded. They had the M-60, but the tank's armor was too thick. Currently, the tank was driving through the hole it had blasted through the rubble, firing odd shots when it could. Once it was out, they would need to flee again, and they had no way of knowing if Dragon Kingdom soldiers were around the corner. They'd be wide open to an ambush in their retreat.

"Just work on the radio. Get yourself in a safe position, we'll try and buy you some time." Mighty slung his gun off his shoulder, as Ray nodded nervously. Mighty ran to join Espio, perched on the second floor of a former bank. Others were in an old temple, where the fire was slowly spreading.

"What's the situation, Espio?"

"The tank has a mini gun, but it hasn't used it. Right now, we're focussing on taking it out, in case it tries to use it. The treads are too thick, so bullets won't do much good on them. We're out of grenades, but we've got a few smoke grenades left, but only three. Most of us don't have much ammo left, either. I give us about ten minutes before we run out. And when that happens… John. I want you to do something for me."

"What is it, Espio?"

"I-I want you to stay with me. If I'm going to die here, I want to die with a friend like you by my side." Mighty smiled sadly.

"You can count on that, Espio. Right now, our only hope is if Ray can get that radio working. Unless he does, I'm here with you till the end." Espio smiled, reloading his rifle.

"Then let's go down fighting."

1971. Fort Bragg, Green Beret training grounds. Campbell addressed the assembled members of Baker Team, pacing back and forth in front of them, examining them each.

"You have all done well in your training thus far. You have completed your classes in demolitions and languages, and will soon begin survival and engineering. Bear in mind, these are not complete courses, but they are high above many other members of the army. Once you have completed those classes, you will begin training with a wide array of vehicles. Helicopters, tanks, patrol boats and a few others. This is to prepare you for any situation, any event where you may need to use vehicles such as those, either in battle, or in retreat. Once they are finished, you will be tested on your knowledge. Each of you will be air dropped into different environments with only a knife and a canteen. You will have a week to navigate your way through them and to a nearby military base. Failure to complete this test will result in discharge from Baker Team and reinstatement in your original division. Do I make myself clear?"

"SIR, YES SIR!" Came the reply, all eight members speaking in unison as they stood at attention.

"Very good. Dismissed." They saluted and headed towards their barracks.

"I'm glad he's warning us. That gives us a few months to put our all into this. And once we've passed, then think about what we can do to those gook bastards." Danforth smiled as he spoke, sitting on his bunk.

"Yeah, we can do some damage. But, we'll be doing tougher missions and assignments. Won't be a cake-walk, that's for sure." Ortega pointed out, washing his face in the sink. Mighty sat on his bunk, sighing.

"Something up with you, Mighty? Seem a little worried." Mighty looked up at Messner, his jacket off, wearing his white undershirt.

"Just thinking about a friend. Left him behind when I got accepted, just wondering if he's alright." Messner sighed, leaning against the wall.

"I'm familiar with that problem myself. Left my platoon and some great men behind, just so I could be the best of the best, as it were. Still, long as they're damn good fighters, they'll be able to take care of themselves. Thats how I look at it." Messner gave Mighty a pat on the back, walking off to use the latrine. Mighty laid down on his bunk, putting his hands behind his head. Espio was brushing his teeth, and Krakhauer was kicking off his boots.

"Ask me, this whole shit's fucked up, man. I mean, shit man, why're we even involved in this to begin with?", Barry spoke up from his bunk, groaning.

"Seriously, I never kept up with the news, all that shit's too complicated, man."

"Seriously, man? Ughh… North Dragon Kingdom is communist, supported by the Overlanders with arms and equipment. South Dragon Kingdom is against that, so they were aided by the Mercians, who had established colonies there during the Great War. Once they were overwhelmed, they sought aid from us, and thats how we got drawn into this bullshit. Happy, Delmar?" Barry looked over at Danforth, shrugging slightly.

"As long as we're here for a fucking reason, I'm fine. Even if it is a bullshit reason…" Danforth sighed, walking back to his bunk.

"I've got reason enough to fight, and more then enough to kill." Krakhauer's voice surprised everyone, his low, almost threatening voice seemingly drowning out the noises of the barracks. He lowered his head after speaking, climbing into his bunk and laying down, turning over to the side. After he spoke, Mighty spoke up as well.

"You're doing it for your brother, aren't you?"

The next day they began survivalism classes. The instructors were pointing out certain edible fungi and roots to begin with, telling them how to live off the land.

"As you can see, water can be obtained from the leafs of jungle plants, but you must purify some water. For example, let's say you come across a stream. You would need to boil the water obtained from it to safely sterilize it. Vines, too, may contain water, but be careful: Certain vines contain poisonous sap. Cut the vine first, and if a sticky, milky sap comes out, it is poisonous. Water bearing vines will yield a clear fluid when cut. Make sure not to let the fluid contact your skin, as it can cause irritation. Instead, let the water drip into your mouth directly. If possible, a container of some kind is also good to use in these situations. Certain palm trees contain water in their stems. Find a flowering stalk and bend it downward, cutting off its tip. It is most important to keep hydrated in the jungle. Dehydration can be a worse death then a gunshot. Now, who can tell me the best way to navigate through the jungle? Espio?"

"Sir, by seeing beyond the immediate foliage, and looking farther ahead, for pathways through the undergrowth. Bending down to look at the ground is also helpful, sir." He sat back down as the instructor nodded.

"Very good, Espio. You are all already aware of how to trap and snare small animals for food, so we will move onto how to build shelters for the night. Above all else, fatigue is your worst enemy."

The group stood rigidly at attention, as Campbell addressed them again.

"You have done well so far in all your classes and training. I feel I do not need to remind you that your test is approaching soon. If you can survive and navigate your way out of the wilderness to the military base nearby, you will be ready for the next part of training. For now, prepare for helicopter class. Dismissed." They saluted and walked back to the barracks, Espio and Mighty talking quietly.

"John, do you really think learning how to fly helicopters is gonna be that easy? I mean, we've got two months to learn how to competently fly them, for god's sake!"

"Yeah, not to mention we're supposed to learn how to drive tanks and patrol boats. I mean, I don't imagine tanks'll be that difficult, kinda like cars." Espio shook his head, sighing.

"Only four months left, then we're back in action."

"Yeah. Then we can make these fucking gooks pay."

The instructor was showing Mighty the function of each dial and gauge, as he listened with rapt attention.

"Now, as for armament, there are a few variations seeing service out there currently. Standard side-mounted guns are 7.62 mm M60's, or 7.62 mm GAU-17/A machine guns. Both have their advantages, and mostly give you the same results. As for rockets, some may not have them, but more often then not your standard UH-1 will have seven or nineteen round 2.75 in rocket pods. Usually you'll have only two rockets, but some combat models have four rockets, however these are by far less common. You getting all this, kid?"

"Sir, yes sir. Sir, I have a question. How long will a tank of gas last you on one of these?"

"It is dependent on the model. The UH-1B has larger gas tanks, and has now virtually replaced the regular UH-1. However, some regular models are still in use, so be aware of that fact. A full tank will get you at least five hours of slight, perhaps more depending on circumstances. Now, we're going to take a test flight. I'll be in the cockpit with you, in the event that anything should go wrong or you make a mistake. Now, where do you begin?"

"T-the engine control panel, sir?"

"Correct. Turn on fuel and start the motor. Wait for the blades to pick up, otherwise you won't have the right amount of lift for takeoff." Mighty nodded, sweating nervously. He flipped the furl switch, turning on the motor. He checked the fuel light, making sure he had enough. The caution lights were off, and the blades were still warming up.

"Don't forget to check the radio panels. Is the NAV radio working?"

"Yes, sir. It's working. Transponder in working order as well." The blades were whirring faster now, and Mighty prepared for takeoff. The instructor sat back, watching him as he went through the motions of takeoff. Pulling up on the throttle, the helicopter lifted up off the ground. Mighty wiped the sweat from his forehead, looking at the control panels nervously. He eased on the throttle, letting the helicopter hover ten feet off the ground. The instructor nodded, moving over to him.

"Alright, good job, John. That's enough for today, set her down." Mighty nodded, breathing a sigh of relief. He set the chopper down slowly, turning off the motor and dipping the fuel switch off. He climbed out, the instructor jotting down notes on his pad.

"Very good, John. Be prepared for tomorrow, when we'll try flying it about ten feet across the runway." He walked off, still making notes. Mighty sighed deeply, walking to the barracks as Espio and Danforth were taking off in their choppers.

1968, Hue. The black night was lit up with the orange of the fire, the clouds of black smoke blending into the night sky. Espio and Mighty were unloading the last of their magazines onto the tank, the rest of the platoon doing the same. The tank was trying to aim at one source of gunfire, unable to zero in on a specific area. A shell flew into the pavement outside of an office building, destroy half of the bottom floor. The gunfire continued, as the tank fired another shell into a former temple, setting it ablaze like so many other ruins. Ray was thrown onto the floor from the blast, part of the roof caving in. The medic rushed Cody over to the back of the temple, opening his field kit to apply fresh bandages. Ray was on the ground, trying to get up, frantically grabbing the radio off the ground, trying desperately to get it to work. A voice crackled to life on it, and he cried into it.

"This is platoon 32, regular army, city of Hue. We are under heavy fire, pinned down in a burning block. Request immediate aid, platoon leader dead, I repeat. platoon leader dead!" Ray was panting, the radio crackling with another voice.

"Understood, sending chopper." The radio fizzled out, as Ray let out a deep sigh. The medic had finished applying fresh bandages, and set Cody against what had once been a sort of altar, partially broken statuettes decorating it. Ray looked over at the medic, picking up his rifle.

"Look, I've gotta go tell Johnny that help is on the way, can you keep him safe until then?"

"I think I'll be fine, he's still got a good chance is help arrives soon." Ray nodded, looking at Cody quickly as he rushed out of the temple. Another blast from the tank rippled through the air, slamming into the pavement as a scream was cut short by the blast. Ray spotted Mighty and Espio, laying down heavy fire on the tank. He sprinted towards them, diving down as another blast shook the ground and bits of cement hit him. Struggling to get back up, he made his way to where they were, panting and out of breath.

"John… Espio… Help is coming! I got the radio working!" Espio and Mighty stopped firing, as Mighty laughed. Espio let out a nervous chuckle as well, as they reloaded their rifles again.

"Cody's still alive, the medic says he'll make it. They're holed up in the temple, and probably need a little more protection." Mighty slung his rifle over his shoulder, Espio doing the same.

"Alright then, let's help hold the tank off until help arrives. Espio, go and alert the rest of the platoon that help's coming. Ray, you're with me. Come on!" They ran out of the building, Espio heading towards the remnants of the platoon. Mighty burst into the temple, seeing the fire spreading slowly. He spotted the medic treating Cody, rushing over.

"Alright, we're here to help hold the tank off, how's Cody?"

"Holding up, the bleeding's slowing down. I'd say he'll make it."

"Good. Ray, how much ammo do you have left?"

"Half a clip currently in the gun, one last clip in my belt."

"Damn, not that much. I've only got a single clip left. Did they say how long it would take until help arrives?"

"No, the radio shorted out after I got through. They said they're sending a chopper to help."

"Hmm… Damn, then we might run out of ammo before they get here. I've got one smoke grenade left, we can use it to distract the tank for at least a few minutes, buy us maybe ten minutes. I'm counting on at least thirty minutes or so before the chopper arrives. Alright, you stay with Cody and the medic, keep them sate while I distract the tank." Mighty stood up, as Ray nodded, heading towards the medic. Mighty steadied his hands, sighing and walking to the window of the temple, stepping over a burning piece of the roof. He watched the tank, two members of the platoon running from it as another shell burst the pavement. They run again, and Mighty watched as the tank began to follow them. Jumping out of the window, he sprinted to the tank, pulling the smoke grenade off his belt and jumping onto the tank. Finding an exhaust vent, he shot it open and pulled the pin of the grenade. He shoved it into the vent, jumping off the tank as thick white smoke erupted from one of the vents that hadn't been damaged. The tank stopped dead in its tracks, as the remaining members of the platoon opened fire on it from their scattered locations. The tank fired another shell in a random direction, hitting the fifth floor of a skyscraper, showering glass and stone onto the street. It was still filled with smoke when a rocket flew into it and burst against the hatch, setting it ablaze as jagged pieces of the tank flew across the pavement. Cheers accompanied the arrival of the helicopter, as it landed next to the temple. As soldiers exited and helped round up the platoon, two medics with a stretcher ran out, finding Cody and the medic exiting the temple. They helped Cody onto the stretcher, as Mighty walked over to him. He took a quick look at Mighty as he was carried over to the chopper, the stretcher attached to the chopper. An officer approached Mighty, eyeing his singed, tattered uniform and empty magazine.

"Private John Armadillo, correct? We've heard about how Erikson was killed and how you took over for him. Men like you might be just what we need to win this war, if you don't mind my saying. This will look damn good on your report, I must say. You might make corporal, maybe even sergeant for this."

"Thank you sir, right now though, I'd prefer to get some rest. Take good care of that wounded man, he's a friend."

"I'll see what I can do." Mighty nodded, walking to the chopper with Ray and Espio. He climbed in, leaning back against the wall of the chopper. Ray and Espio sat across from him, as he lit a cigarette, offering the pack to them both. They declined, as he inhaled deeply and exhaled a breath of smoke. The flight back was quiet, each of them looking down at the floor of the chopper. When they arrived back at base, Cody was rushed to the medical tent, as the others walked slowly to their bunks, falling asleep almost as soon as they lay down. All except Mighty. He lay awake for a while, staring at the ceiling as he listening to the muted sounds of the surgeons audible over the snoring of the platoon. Sounds of medical supplies being handed over, surgeons whispering to each other, requesting bandages, stitches, and morphine. Cody could be any of the screaming voices coming from there, muted by the extra padding of the tent. He could be the one crying out for his mother, perhaps the one crying painfully before his cries died down as morphine was applied. It was hard to tell, the muffled screams almost blending together. He knew one thing for sure: He was one of the screaming voices, and he might be one of the silenced screams come daybreak. He eventually got to sleep, but it was a troubled sleep. A sleep filled with cries of pain, gunfire, and a weak voice talking about it's brother.


End file.
